


Gossip

by ros3bud009



Category: Transformers - All Media Types, Transformers: Prime
Genre: Friendship, Other, Ratchet and June would have been such good friends, with a side of Ratchet/Optimus
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-12
Updated: 2016-05-12
Packaged: 2018-06-07 22:07:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,076
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6826663
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ros3bud009/pseuds/ros3bud009
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"That was the beginning of the end. They still exchanged knowledge, but more and more of their meetings ended up devoted to simply chatting and, while Ratchet was embarrassed to admit it, gossiping."</p>
<p>Because Ratchet and June would have been incredible friends who both find Optimus Prime to be a pretty hot bot.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Gossip

**Author's Note:**

> Just a little something I could not get out of my head until I wrote it. I always enjoyed the interactions Ratchet and June had, and wish that more had been done with their relationship in the show, so here we are.

These meetings had started innocently enough. Ratchet was beginning to understand that with the children running around the base and sneaking into the field far more often than they should, it would be worthwhile to at least gather some preliminary understanding of their anatomy and physiology. The idea that they had been hurt on his watch and he could do little for them rubbed his medic protocols the wrong way.

And Ratchet could only assume that for June it was much the same when she could only stand by and watch when he worked on the warriors. Her fingers would twitch and often she would ask if there was anything she could do to help.

“I’m sure I could get to hard to reach spots with these,” June had mentioned, waving one of her hands, and Ratchet could not deny that there were occasions that her tiny, precise fingers would be extremely helpful in more delicate procedures.

So they started to set up meetings to exchange their medicinal knowledge. Each meeting had a specific topic. Sometimes the sharing was equal – when they had focused on basic anatomy, Ratchet had been surprised to find that despite their small stature, the human body was densely packed with structures and organs, so they shared their time pretty equally.

Other times, it would turn out that one of them had far, far more to share than the other. When they had a meeting about fueling, Ratchet’s part of the discussion had been relatively straightforward. There were some complexities to energon and its use in a cybertronian’s body, but he found it was all grossly outweighed by the complex combination of water and food that humans needed to consume and how it was converted into energy for their bodies to use. When June had finished by saying that that was the basics, Ratchet had stared at her with wide optics because surely it could not have been even more complex than that.

The nutrition chart she had Ratchet bring up on his monitor, filled with dozens of vitamins and minerals and the even more numerous roles they played in a healthy human body, answered that question. The medic admitted defeat, but not before informing June that he was fairly certain that the food the children kept at the base likely did not meet all these requirements.

Miko had nearly blown a gasket when June emptied their supplies of what she called ‘Junk Food’ and filled the cabinet with food she had brought herself.

“This is _our_ base, not _mom_ base! She can’t make rules like this!”

“Considering Nurse Darby has far more knowledge of your biology than I care to learn, I have chosen to leave your nutritional needs in her capable hands.”

“Why thank you, Doctor,” June had replied with a grin before turning to the human girl. “Please tell me you’ve been eating more than just these bags of candy and chips.”

“Duh. Jack brings burgers and fries when he comes after work.”

When June shot Ratchet a look, the medic shrugged weakly.

“I wasn’t aware that that did not constitute a healthy human diet.”

Quickly enough though, the meetings would often end up deteriorating until they got off topic completely.

Once, when Ratchet was discussing the T-Cog, June had asked questions about how they picked their vehicles, which led down a long conversation path into the history of functionalism on Cybertron, describing his Cybertronian vehicle mode, and then eventually concluding with a discussion of the aesthetics of his Earth vehicle mode.

“There’s simply so much more kibble involved! And with things like these glass windows, they break so easily. It’s frankly embarrassing how often I have to have Agent Fowler send us replacement ones.”

“Have you tried buying in bulk?” June asked, sitting cross-legged on the raised balcony. Ratchet sighed, leaning his helm against his arms which he had crossed and draped across the balcony’s railing.

“We already do.”

June grimaced a bit, but pressed forward, gesturing at Ratchet as she said, “Well, sure, I could see how that’s annoying, but it looks good on you! And you could have done way worse. You have the best paintjob I’ve ever seen on an ambulance, and believe me, I’ve seen a lot of ambulances.”

Ratchet blinked, before glancing at his arms. A satisfied grin pulled at his mouth as he replied, “That’s true. I do like how my colors were incorporated into both of my new forms. Although I still don’t know where this came from.” He shifted his forearm to indicate the jagged line on his plating. “It’s nice, but nothing I ever had before.”

“You do realize that’s supposed to be a human heartbeat, right?”

“What?” Ratchet turned it so he could look at it again, optics cycling as he tilted his helm to try looking at it from another angle, frowning. “Is it?”

June clapped a hand to her mouth, attempting and failing to stifle her giggles. When Ratchet asked if she was trying to pull a fast one over on him, she burst out into laughter. June insisted that she was not messing with him, that it was a very simplified representation of a human heartbeat, but Ratchet could not tell if she was genuinely just amused by the fact that he did not know, or if she was pushing the joke further. Finally he just looked it up, finding that yes, while it was an inaccurate representation, it was most assuredly supposed to be a heartbeat.

That was the beginning of the end. They still exchanged knowledge, but more and more of their meetings ended up devoted to simply chatting and, while Ratchet was embarrassed to admit it, gossiping.

Once, June had come to the base after one of her shifts, and when Jack asked if she was there to pick him up, had insisted that no, she and Ratchet had a meeting scheduled, but she would be happy to drive them all home afterwards.

They had no such thing planned. But nevertheless, Ratchet had gone along with her lie, escorting her back to where he had projects to do in the med bay.

And then, when they were out of earshot and audial range, June groaned loudly and leaned her weight against Ratchet’s ankle.

“I’m sorry, but work was _awful_. Do you mind if I relax here for a bit?”

Ratchet reached down, his servo laid flat so that June could step up onto it. He lifted her to his shoulder. She settled against the corner made by his collar flaring and the med pack on his back and sighed in relief.

“Was it Sam again?”

“Oh my _God_! You would not believe what he got away with today.”

“I thought he already messed up the filing system last week. Surely he couldn’t have done anything that bad again, or they would have finally fired him.”

“You would think, and yet--” June paused a moment. “You don’t mind me ranting?”

“Of course not,” Ratchet replied with a huff. “And frankly, this man sounds like an absolute retch. I can’t understand how they haven’t gotten rid of him and given you his position. You’d do a far better job.”

“You’re an absolute sweetheart.” June nestled in, sighing. “I certainly wouldn’t let a five year old child run wild on the floor.”

“You’re joking.”

“Oh don’t worry, it gets worse.” 

* * *

 

“So, I have to know,” June started one day, leaning against the balcony railing to watch as Ratchet worked on fixing one of his tools, “Cybertronians don’t reproduce among themselves, but do you guys still have romantic relationships?”

Ratchet glanced up from his work.

“Of course. Romantic and physical relationships have an important social function.”

June nodded, and then slowly a sly grin spread across her face. “So then, is that all based on personality, or do you know an attractive bot when you see one?”

Ratchet could not help the snorting laugh that escaped him. He should have known where this was headed. When he did not immediately reply, June leaned forward, pressing onward. “Don’t you hold out on me now. I need to know who you think is good looking.”

“You can’t be serious.”

“I already have my own personal ranking of the team.”

“Do you now?” Ratchet asked, a grin pulling at his own mouth. He put his work down and put one servo on his hip while the other laid across the balcony railing so he could lean against it. “Our species may have some morphological similarities, but I doubt you understand what constitutes an attractive cybertronian.”

June shrugged. “I’m not talking whatever societal standards you had on Cybertron. Just personal taste.”

“Dare I ask where I fall on your ranking?”

“Second from the top, actually,” June said. Ratchet let out a “pfft”, but before he could refute her claim she continued, “And no, that’s not just me flattering you. I’ve told you before, I like your paintjob. It’s very striking. Bulkhead was very close behind though.”

“Oh?”

“I like ‘em big. And he’s remarkably paternal considering your species doesn’t even have children.”

Ratchet tilted his helm as he considered that. “I suppose that makes sense. Certainly explains your preoccupation with Agent Fowler.”

June reached over to slap her hand down on one of his digits. “Oh shut it! We’re talking about bots, not boys.”

“You only said we were ranking the team,” Ratchet pointed out, earning him another slap. “But fine, fine. We’ll discuss him another time. Continue with your ranking.”

“I mean, then we just get to the top hot bot,” June said, clearly amused by her own turn of phrase, “which is obviously Optimus.”

Ratchet smirked. “I underestimated you, June.”

“I mean, anyone can see that. He’s pretty handsome.”

“Pretty handsome?” Ratchet started with a chuckle. “I can promise you that no other cybertronian can compete in terms of looks.”

With a nod and a smirk, June replied, “So then, would you say that his looks are out of this world?”

Ratchet’s optic ridges drew close together until, with an exasperated groan, he realized what the woman had done. He raised his servo from his hip to scrub at his face. “I suppose you could put it that way.”

With a warm giggle, June reached over, this time kindly patting his digit. “It’s not just his looks though. His voice is incredible.”

Ratchet onlined one of his optics, sighed, and then nodded as he onlined the other as well, allowing the joke to pass. “You should hear him read poetry.”

June’s eyes went wide.

“You’ve heard him read poetry? Out loud?”

“Only on a few occasions. He’s never tried his own servos at writing it, but he enjoys it and shares sometimes.”

“And you managed to not just short circuit right then and there?”

Ratchet smiled sheepishly. “It was a close call, I’ll admit.”

June considered him carefully before asking, “What about singing? I love a man who can sing.”

“That I have not heard. Just the occasional humming,” Ratchet admitted. Then, his grin grew wider, his optics softening. “I have seen him dance though.”

“What?” June gasped, and this time she actually scrambled to her feet and moved to lean her arms against Ratchet’s servo. “Tell me everything, because with those legs?”

“ _And_ those hips,” Ratchet reminded her.

“Well _of course_. So go on, tell!”

“Alright, but this stays between us,” Ratchet said, leaning his helm down and speaking more quietly. “You’re lucky I’m even telling you.”

June raised a brow. “ _Please._ You’ve been dying to find someone you could tell.”

Ratchet shrugged – she was not wrong.

“It was a couple hundred years ago, back on Cybertron. We had had a series of victories and morale was finally starting to rise again, so Optimus decided it was time the troops be allowed to have an evening off to celebrate,” Ratchet explained. “He did not attend though, instead staying in his tent and working. I had gone to check on him, and even all the way at his tent, the music from the party was loud enough to be heard from there.

“I guess he hadn’t heard me come in and he was facing the other direction, so he was standing across the room, reading some datapad, and he was swinging his hips to the music.”

Optimus had truly been a sight to behold in the low-lighting, weight shifting from one pede to the other, humming lowly with the tune. The movement was a subtle swaying with the rhythm, his hip flares catching the light as his plating slid with ease. Ratchet had stood there for several seconds just watching, mesmerized by his Prime.

“That’s an incredible mental image,” June admitted, but she did not wear the same sly look as before. Instead she seemed more interested in watching Ratchet’s face. “What did you do?”

“Said hello,” Ratchet replied with a huff. “He stopped of course, but then I – I may have asked if he wanted to dance.”

June’s eyes widened nearly as much as Optimus’s had at the time.

“And?”

“And we shared a dance and he was gorgeous,” Ratchet said, glancing away as his spark pulsed in his chest. He could still vividly remember the slow smile that had pulled at Optimus’s mouth, insisting that he was not very good, but he supposed one dance would not hurt. His servos had be warm on Ratchet’s shoulders, and he had not said a word when Ratchet tentatively settled his on Optimus’s waist, the plating shifting under his touch as they moved.

“You’re not a very good story teller,” June said teasingly, but her soft smile betrayed her. “How long have you two been together?”

Ratchet’s optics cycled as he considered her. “Together?”

June nodded, waiting, and when Ratchet continued to look at her in confusion she said, “Yes, together. Or do cybertronians not do committed relationships?”

“Relation—oh.” Ratchet’s optics cycled wide and he shook his head. “Oh, no. I mean yes, as a culture we do, but Optimus and I don’t have anything as official as that.”

“But you do have something.”

Ratchet cleared his voice box.

“What else have you and Optimus done and you’ve kept from me, hm? How well _do_ you know those hips of his?”

 Ratchet glanced away. “That’s unimportant.”

June gasped and yet again slapped her hand on his digits. “It is not. Optimus hardly seems the type to, what is it again? Frag?” Ratchet nodded slightly, still refusing to meet her gaze. “He wouldn’t just frag with anybody. And it’s clear you two care for each other and share something special.” When Ratchet did not deny any of her claims, June continued, “If somehow you two haven’t actually talked about it, you need to do that immediately. I can’t believe you haven’t already!”

Ratchet cycled a ventilation before finally looking at her.

“What we currently have is just fine. There’s no need to push the topic.”

June stare was fiery.

“Do you want to be with him?”

Ratchet chewed the inside of his cheek before whispering, “Yes.”

“So then you’ll talk to him about it.”

Ratchet sighed, shaking his head and carefully moving his servo to push away from the balcony. “I don’t know that he wants that though.”

June was giving him a disapproving look, and Ratchet wondered if this was how it felt to be one of her patients.

And then the gentle rumbling of Optimus’s engine echoed through the base, back from his patrol. June glanced towards the noise, back at Ratchet, and then turned on her heel and started walking towards the command center.

“Oh no, nonono,” Ratchet hissed quietly, taking a couple steps and placing his servo in her path. “Don’t you dare.”

June did stop, but only to place her hands on her hips and level a disappointed look at him. This was, without a doubt, what it felt like to be her patient. Or, Ratchet wondered, possibly what it was like to be her child. He would have to ask Jack about that.

“Are _you_ going to finally say something then?” When Ratchet grimaced, the woman sighed and gestured towards him. “See? So let me handle this. You’ll thank me later.”

“June--”

“Hello Ratchet,” Optimus greeted as he turned the corner, turning his helm to spot June. “And hello to you as well, Nurse Darby.”

“Please, you can call me June,” she replied, her glower instantly gone and replaced with a sweet smile. Ratchet had to fight the urge to roll his optics. “We were actually just talking about you, Optimus.”

“Oh?” Optimus’s optics turned to Ratchet, a hint of amusement in his bright blues.

Ratchet’s spark was pounding in his chest, very much feeling as if he had been cornered on the battle field, but with far more embarrassment. “Y-yes, well, nothing in particular--”

“I was asking him how long you two have been together,” June interrupted. Optimus’s ridges rose a bit at that as he turned his gaze back to the woman.

“Well, we met before the war, so it’s been many thousands of years now.”

“I meant more romantically speaking.”

“June!” Ratchet snapped, though he only got a raised eyebrow in response.

Optimus, of all things, chuckled softly.

“I should have suspected that, given how close you two had become, you would put things together.” Optimus had a warm smile as he continued, “Though I’m afraid there was no real beginning event to use as a starting marker. Maybe a couple hundred years now.” He turned his head to look at Ratchet. “Does that seem about right?”

Ratchet stared back with wide optics. It took a couple reboots of his voice box before he finally managed to say, “We’re together?”

Optimus’s smile waned a bit. “Aren’t we?”

“We never talked about it and I didn’t want to assume.”

“We--” Optimus started, pausing as he seemed to consider that. “No, I suppose we didn’t. But I had assumed—was I wrong to do so?”

“No! No, that’s—I would be honored--”

June lightly coughed. Ratchet’s lines burned hot, embarrassed that he had already forgotten they had an audience. However, the woman simply said, “I’ll just see myself out and leave you gentlemen to it.”

June had started to make her way across the balcony when Ratchet called out, “Wait, June?” Once she turned, he smiled gratefully. “Thank you.”

“Told you,” she replied, smiling in return. “What would you do without me?”


End file.
